


Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marvel 616 References, Minor Character Death, TFATWS - Freeform, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "It's time..."When Sam had given Bucky the address to his sisters house, he'd done it mostly out of guilt, not wanting to leave him with nobody after Steve's death. He'd hoped that Bucky wouldn't show up, and that he'd just give Sam his time to himself until he was ready to return to face reality himself. What he certainly hadn't expected was for Bucky to rock up with a stressed looking teenager at his side and tell him they had to get back to work.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (mentioned), Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson (mentioned)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Sam

**Author's Note:**

> After watching The Falcon and The Winter Soldier teaser we got, my mind couldn't stop lingering on the idea behind WHY Bucky said "it's time". And I feel like it would only make sense for what happened with Peter at the end of FFH to be brought into it if they're following the timeline at all. So-- this is what's come from it. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Chapters will be updated as often as possible, please don't nag me for them because it'll just stress me out and I won't write. 
> 
> NB: this does take character names from the 616 universe and a little of Sam's backstory as we don't have much from the MCU on that front, but I don't know the characters well and as they don't exist in the MCU as far as we know, I have given them their own personalities to fit with the storyline.

It felt like months, though barely two weeks had passed since they’d carried Steve’s coffin down the church steps. Sam had never understood why Steve had stayed back, but he was his best friend and he respected him enough to trust his choices. But when Steve returned old, and with only a few months left, it had been hard for him to trust that things would remain okay. Captain America had been someone he’d aspired to be, growing up. Steve Rogers had become his best friend as an adult. Looking back now, Sam realised that he had dedicated a lot of his life to Steve, and it was time for him to refigure who he was.

It had been a long time since Sam had returned home to visit his family. He’d raised his siblings until they were old enough to be out on their own, then joined the army. He hadn’t been back to Harlem since. Things were different than he remembered them to be—of course they were, the world was different, people had been families had been pulled apart and put back together, some people lost 5 years, other people found a way to make new lives in that time.

As he stood in the entryway to Sarah’s apartment, Sam couldn’t help but feel nervous at what he was to expect. Sure they’d messaged a little, but he didn’t know if his sister had snapped or if his nephew had, he knew that she’d lost her husband sometime since they’d last seen one another, but he didn’t know how or when. And he didn’t know if he’d be welcomed into the house, showing up without notice like this. All he knew was that he needed a time out from the world that he’d entered when Steve Rogers became a part of his life.   
“As I live and breathe,” the door pulled open to show his sister, still radiant as he could remember the last time, they’d seen one another. “Samuel Thomas Wilson back in Harlem.”  
“Hi Sarah…” Sam shrugged his bag on his shoulder a little. “Do you mind if I crash with you for a little while?”  
Sarah nodded, clicking the lock on the screen to let him through, “You should’ve called. Could’ve had some food preparing or…warned Jody,” her eyes darted towards the bedroom before back to her brother, and they stood quietly a moment, taking in the others presence.  
“I know,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck as he finally spoke, setting his bag behind the sofa. “I know, but things have been a bit crazy and I needed to get away from all of that and I missed you.”  
Sarah rolled her eyes, heading for the kitchen to prepare them each a coffee. “Take a seat.”

The next few hours were spent catching one another up on what was going on. Sarah explained how she had been snapped and how Jody and her husband hadn’t, how he also hadn’t made it to see Sarah return on the other end. She explained to him quietly how she and Jody were still working on rebuilding their relationship—ensuring to point out that this is why he should’ve called ahead – wasn’t that just a punch in the gut. She told him that she hadn’t heard from Gideon and while she was looking, nothing had turned up on their brother. After they were caught up on what had happened in her life, Sam caught her up on his, told her about Wakanda, about Bucky and Steve, about their relationships. He hadn’t intended to, but somehow, he ended up on the tangent of the nature of their relationships. Nothing had ever been defined with a label, but Sam loved Steve, and he’d convinced himself at some stage that Steve cared for him too, maybe even loved him until he’d overheard Steve and Bucky talking while preparing themselves for the battle in Wakanda.

_“Buck, you know I love you,” Steve’s voice had sounded across the quiet of the room, just above a whisper.  
Sam pressed his back against the wall, not wanting to intrude in their conversation, but unable to help himself from listening in. He still worried for Bucky’s mentality, despite the way that T’Challa spoke so highly of his recovery.  
“I know you do, Steve. And I love you too…” Bucky replied, and you could hear the ‘but’ in his voice before he spoke. “But I’m not **in love** with you. That was a long time ago.”  
“But you’ve just gotten out, you’re not even gonna give it a chance?”  
There was a long silence, and Sam had readied himself to leave the rest of their conversation to their own privacy as they deserved, before Bucky spoke. “You and Sam are close…”  
“We’re just having fun, Buck. I care about him. He’s a good friend and great in bed but…” _

The memory of Steve’s words faded off and Sam let out a small sigh, glancing at his sister a moment. “I’m an adult. I knew going into it we were friends and both in need of some physical contact. So it shouldn’t have hurt me as much as it did, but things were different after that—and I don’t know if I can blame that on the discussion or the fact that I barely saw him with the mess of the fight and then we were gone for….well, for Steve it was years. Then he went back and came back old and…” he shook his head a little, “He gave me the shield.”

***

“Here,” Sam crouched down beside Jody, grabbing the clamp to help him as he worked on the car.  
Jody scoffed a little, “I don’t need your help,” he muttered, but didn’t make any effort to take the clamp back, just grabbed the next item he needed. They worked quietly for a few minutes before Jody turned towards him, eyes narrowing.   
_God, he looks like his mother_ , Sam couldn’t help but think.  
“Why are you here, Sam?” Jody asked, continuing before Sam could respond. “You’ve never exactly been around; I haven’t seen you since I was like…two? _Maybe_. And I’m sixteen now so you can’t even use the blip excuse because there are still nine years of my life that you missed, of ma’s life that you missed,” there was a pained hostility in his voice. “From what I heard of your conversation when you arrived, you’re only here because you needed a break from that superhero lifestyle you have going on. You’re only here because _you_ needed something.”  
Sam could feel the words like a hot knife to his heart and he looked down at his hands briefly before back at his nephew. “I never visited because it always hurt to be here. I lost my parents—your grandparents. I worked alongside my best friend when I was in the Airforce…Riley,” he took a breath. “He lived just down the road, his father owned the butcher and we knew each other for most of our lives. We loved each other,” he picked up a wrench from the toolbox, twisting at the grip just to have something physical to focus on. “I lost him too. Watched him go down.” He let out a slow breath, something about being so close to where they’d grown up together made it all the harder to talk about Riley. “Then after I met Steve…after some shit went down, I sorta became a criminal, and I didn’t really want to bring that into your lives, so I didn’t come back then.”  
“Yeah, but you chose to lose us,” Jody muttered, scowling up at Sam. And he was right. Sam knew he was, and there was nothing he could say or do to change that.  
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Sam tried, guilt rising in his chest as he watched his nephew, hoping for some kind of acceptance.  
Jody shook his head a little, turning back towards the car, “Ma might be all accepting and ready to welcome you with open arms. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re a stranger. I don’t know you, and quite frankly at this stage, I don’t want to know you.”  
The words cut like a knife into Sam’s stomach, but he said nothing, just gave a small nod and stood to his feet, settling the wrench back in the toolbox. “Whenever you’re ready… _if you’re ever ready_ , don’t hesitate to come to me, yeah? I love you, kid. Whether you love me too or not. I’m sorry I wasn’t around, but I can’t change that. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere, yeah?”  
“Yeah say that again in a week,” Jody muttered, watching as Sam left the room, a bitter scowl scrawled across his face.


	2. Bucky and Peter

Bucky sighed as he watched Sam pack a bag of things, leaning against the doorway with tired eyes. “You don’t have to go, y’know…” he said quietly after a few silent minutes had passed.  
Sam was silent, the room went so quiet that Bucky wasn’t sure if he’d heard him. It’d been a hard couple days after Steve’s funeral, they’d been dancing around one another, unsure how to allow the other to grieve. Bucky had been numb since he’d gotten the phone call. He was still numb now, the backs of his eyes burning with unshed tears, unable to do anything to release the pent-up emotions that were built inside of him, like a raging river cut off at the edge of a dam that wouldn’t break.  
“I have things I need to do, Bucky,” Sam finally spoke, his eyes darting up to meet Bucky’s silently screaming for answers to questions which Bucky couldn’t give him.  
Bucky’s lips twitched a little, an ache in his chest forming beside the one from Steve’s loss. He didn’t know if he could be alone right now. He wasn’t sure what he’d do. He didn’t know how much he trusted himself being in the world like this. Sure he’d been ‘refreshed’ as Shuri had so eloquently put it, but he’d never been alone in a populated area, and he just didn’t know what might happen. This world was still fairly new to him, and the fact it was still recovering, that made it all the more unpredictable. All that on top of knowing that Steve and Nat were dead, Wakanda was a long way away, and Sam – who was his only remaining friend in America, was leaving, the fear of himself pressed against the surface right beside the pain of the loss of his best friend.   
Sam pursed his lips and made his way over to where Bucky was standing, bringing a hand to rest comfortingly at the base of his friends neck. “Hey, look at me,” he breathed out slowly, his words shaking, unable to help the way his voice quivered. “I’ll leave the address for where I’m going for you. And if things get bad here or you feel like you can’t be alone. You can come on down, okay?” he offered. Even in the wake of needing a time out, Sam had a certain love for Bucky, and he knew that if Steve were alive that he would never forgive him for leaving Bucky alone after such a loss.

Less than an hour later, Bucky watched as Sam pulled out of the driveway and left for Harlem, his eyes glazing over just slightly as he made his way back inside.

***

_“Now if you weren’t tuned in earlier today, then take a look at this shocker of a reveal. ‘Spider-Man’s real—Spider-Man’s real name is—Spider-Man’s name is Peter Parker!’ That’s right folks, New York’s very own Spider-Man, has been identified, and it’s just a teenager from Queens—"_

Bucky’s eyes snapped up at the words spoken on the television, the bowl in his hand clattering into the sink. _Not the kid. Anything but the damn kid._ He moved over to the television, turning up the volume a little as it repeated the broadcast. His eyes darted across the screen as it displayed imagery from an attack in London, showing ‘Spider-Man’ executing an order. His throat tightened slightly, he hadn’t met the kid many times, but he knew enough about him that he would never, not even in the worst stages of grief, do something like this. Where was Fury? Where was Happy? He was who was assigned to watch out for the kid after the fight, after Tony Stark’s death. Bucky grabbed his phone, flicking through the contacts to Happy’s number, dialling the call.  
“C’mon, come on pick up the fucking phone,” his voice strained in frustration as the dial tone rang out.  
The television was still playing in the background, “ _Spider-Man, or Peter Parker, was spotted earlier today with a classmate we’ve identified as Michelle Jones in the city, however he is yet to come forward with a statement, nor have we been able to contact his Aunt who he lives with. We can only wonder wh—_ ”

A knock sounded at the door and Bucky huffed, turning away from the television, readying to dial Happy’s number again. He pressed the button on the video feed, eyes widening at the sight of the kid himself standing there. He pressed his thumb against the keypad and then flicked the lock on the door, pulling him inside in one swift movement.  
“I didn’t know where else to go—"  
“How did you even find this place—” Bucky cut off as they spoke over one another, letting his gaze drift over Peter’s features, taking in how he was trembling, his brain registering just how much he reminded him of Steve once upon a time. His heart clenched a little at the memory and he did the only thing he could think of in the moment, pulling Peter into his chest. There was a quiet that washed over them briefly, before Peter’s shoulders sagged and his whole weight fell into the comforting hold of Bucky’s arms.

“I can’t go back to May,” Peter mumbled, looking at Bucky over the top of the glass of water he was hugging to his chest. The boy had folded in on himself in the corner of the couch, tucked under the blanket Bucky had fetched for him, gripping the glass like it was his life support. “I can’t put her in danger, and everyone knows that I was tied in with Tony so Happy is the other person and I just—” his breath quickened, eyes darting around the room a moment in silent panic. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”  
Bucky moved to sit beside Peter, hesitant in his approach to comfort the teen, “I’m glad you came here. I don’t know how you found us, but I’m glad you came here. You can stay as long as you need, okay?” he told him sincerely.  
“E.D.I.T.H…” Peter murmured, and Bucky’s brows furrowed, as Peter fumbled in his pocket to pull out a pair of very Stark-esque glasses. “Got basically all the knowledge in the universe on these things.”  
Bucky’s lips curled a little at the corners and he held back on freaking out at the idea of a pair of glasses holding intelligence. This shit shouldn’t surprise him anymore, he shouldn’t be this impressed at the idea, he’d spent ample time in Wakanda, in Shuri’s lab, learning new technologies, he shouldn’t be this impressed, but _god damn_ a pair of fucking glasses.   
“Where’s Sam?”  
“What, am I not good enough?” Bucky teased the kid lightly, working a half-hearted smile onto Peter’s expression. “Sam needed some time out. A break from reality or something along those lines.”  
Peter nodded a little, his lips pursing in thought, before he set the glasses and drink down to one side, twisting to face Bucky some more. “I’m sorry about Captain Amer—about Steve.”  
The words sent a shooting pain into Bucky’s heart, his eyes snapping up to meet the teens gaze. “Thanks,” he managed to choke the word out, forcing his heartbeat to steady again. He couldn’t break down now, not after all this time, this couldn’t be the moment that made him snap. “You remind me of him, y’know.” He told him, ache in his chest causing a pounding in his ears. “Always looking out for those around you, never backing down from a fight…bit dumb,” he teased the final part weakly, looking at his hands in his lap. “You’re a good kid. Good kid.”

Over the following days, the media hunt for Peter only got increasingly worse, Bucky managed to contact Happy about Peter staying with him, and Peter spoke to May who was now relocated to a safer—undisclosed—location with Ned and MJ until things were a little less hectic. No matter how many calls he made, Bucky still couldn’t get in contact with Fury, and he really wasn’t sure who else he was able to trust. He knew there were other ‘Avengers’ or at least people who had been involved in the fight—Scott and Hope, Dr. Strange (who, Peter had mentioned was unreachable), Banner – though Bucky was still very confused by that whole situation and to be quite frank he wasn’t sure if the wanted to drag him into this mess right now—the last time Bucky had seen him was when Steve took the stones back and from what he could tell he didn’t want to be in the midst of the fight anymore, never did. Which brought Bucky’s thoughts back around to Sam. He knew that Sam wanted a break. And he knew that Sam deserved one. But he also knew that Sam was at his best when he was working towards something. Sam was at his strongest –and if Bucky was being completely honest, he was easier to tolerate—when he had something to fight for.

“Sam’s in Harlem,” Bucky breathed out as he packed a few things into his backpack, looking across the room at Peter. “I don’t know that he’ll know what to do, but hopefully he’ll be able to help some, okay?”  
Peter nodded, twisting the drawstring on the hoodie he wore. “Thank you, for this,” he breathed out quietly, unsure what else there was he could say in the moment. “I know you didn’t expect for me to rock up but the past few days you’ve been really…accommodating and were so quick to help and you didn’t owe that to me, especially—” he looked at the ground, guilt seeping into him. “Especially after how the first time we met, went down.”  
A small smile formed on Bucky’s lips and he shook his head, “You put up a good fight that day, kid. But forget about it. It was someone else’s fight and you got dragged into it.”  
  


***

The streets were packed, and for two people who had been negatively in the media – albeit for Bucky it was many years ago – it was hard to navigate their way from where Bucky ‘stashed the car’ to the address Sam had listed. As they reached the door, Bucky nudged Peter behind him, unsure who would answer or what their opinion of the situation was.   
“What?”  
A kid answered, no older than Peter himself was. Bucky glanced into the house behind him, “Is Sam here?” he asked.  
The teen rolled his eyes, turning as if he were about to say something, when Sam appeared. “Bucky, what are you doing here?” he asked.  
Bucky sidestepped a little to show Peter behind him, “It’s time, Sam… We have a job to do.”


End file.
